


The CHAS Protocol

by flawedamythyst



Series: CHAS [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Heterosexual Steve, M/M, Objectifying Captain America, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, ridiculous nicknames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Tony and Clint have a mutual support group for their matching crushes on Steve. When Bucky comes to live at the Tower, they invite him to join.





	The CHAS Protocol

Clint strode into the workshop, headed straight for the battered couch in the corner, and collapsed face-first onto it with a groan.

Tony set down his tools and swivelled in his stool to look at him. “JARVIS, CHAS Protocol.”

“Protocol initiated, sir.”

He waited until the door had locked with a quiet snick before asking, “What did he do now?”

Clint’s groan grew louder and he flapped a hand at the ceiling without lifting his head from the couch cushion. “JARVIS, show him the photo.”

JARVIS obligingly projected a photo on the wall of Steve in a park, looking like he had been interrupted mid-run. He was crouching down to pet a golden retriever, a look of adoring pleasure on his face. His crouch had pulled his shorts tight over his thighs and he still hadn’t had managed to buy any shirts that actually fitted.

Tony took a deep breath, drinking it all in for a moment. “Okay, yeah,” he said to Clint. “That’s...that’s a problem.”

How did Steve keep finding new and increasingly mindblowing ways to look insanely hot without even trying?

Clint shifted around so that he could look at the photo as well. “Look at the dog’s eyes,” he said. “Fuck, even dogs adore him.”

“Who can blame them?” asked Tony.

Clint made a murmur of agreement, and for a few minutes they both just contemplated the photo.

“Okay, JARVIS, add that to the folder, will you?” asked Tony.

“Leave it up a bit longer,” said Clint, and Tony snorted.

“No jerking off on my couch,” he reminded him.

“Course not,” said Clint. “It’s just a really cute dog.” As if Tony could be expected to believe that had anything do with it.

Well, if Clint wanted to take some time to indulge in staring at just how unbelievably hot Steve could be, Tony wasn’t about to protest. That was what the CHAS Protocol was there for, after all.

****

A few days later, Tony was inhaling his morning coffee while Clint ate a bowl of horrifically multi-coloured cereal and Barnes lurked awkwardly in the corner with a glass of juice, because lurking awkwardly seemed to be the sum total of his social skills at the moment. The guy had only been in the Tower for a few weeks so Tony was giving him another month before he started getting aggressive about integrating him into the team.

The elevator dinged open and Tony saw Clint perk up at the same time as he did, because of course there was only one reason that they both always managed to be in the kitchen at this time of day.

“I’m just saying, if the weather gets any hotter, you can run on your own and I’ll stick to the super-fancy air-conditioned gym,” Sam said as he came into the kitchen.

When Steve followed him in, Tony had to take a deep breath because, _damn_ , as long as the heatwave left Steve looking like that, it could keep going for as long as it goddamned pleased.

Steve’s white t-shirt was just as tight as usual and soaked through with sweat so that it looked like a second skin. Fuck, whoever took that off was going to have to peel it off and, Jesus, Tony desperately wanted to be the guy to do that.

“I always knew you flyboys had no stamina,” said Steve, running a hand through his sweat-stained hair as if he could neaten it, rather than just mess it up so that it looked even more like sexhair.

Sam poured a couple of glasses of water and handed one to Steve, saying something that Tony couldn’t hear through the buzzing in his ears because Steve tipped his head right back and swallowed the whole glass in one go, throat working as he gulped it down and _fuck_.

Tony heard Clint make a low, pained noise that he barely managed to cover by scraping his spoon in his bowl.

“Workshop,” Tony blurted out. “New arrows. Clint?”

“Coming,” said Clint, leaping to his feet, and they both escaped to the elevator, collapsing against the walls as JARVIS took them down.

“It is way too early in the morning for that,” said Clint. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m beginning to think he’s actually trying to kill us,” said Tony. “It’s still only a working hypothesis, but all the evidence points that way.”

“And not just us,” said Clint as the elevator opened and they headed into the workshop.

“CHAS Protocol,” said Tony, automatically.

“Protocol initiated, sir.”

“Did you see the look on Barnes’s face?” continued Clint. “I think we might have to invite him along next time.”

Tony hadn’t had a scrap of attention to spare for anyone other than Steve. “The good sergeant crushing on his hotass captain?” he said. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah,” said Clint. “I know a look of brain-melting Steve Rogers-lust when I see it. I spend enough time watching your face, don’t I?”

Tony opened his mouth to deny that, then realised what a waste of breath it would be. “Yeah, okay,” he said instead. “I’ll look for it next time. Man, you think he’s been wanting Cap this whole time? Through the War and then when Hydra sent him to kill him and all?”

That was fucked up. Not that there was much about Barnes’s life that wasn’t fucked up, but still.

Clint shrugged. “No idea, but I’m guessing Hydra’s brainwashing techniques don’t leave a lot of space for appreciating a really nice set of pecs.”

“Man, they really are a great set of pecs,” said Tony with feeling, and the conversation got derailed into the usual back-and-forth over Captain America’s best assets.

****

He remembered it at their next movie night though, when Steve knocked the remote under the sofa and got on his knees to retrieve it, pants pulling tight over his ass in a way that was almost enough to make Tony believe in a God.

Except that ass had been made by science, which was just another reason why science would always be his favourite thing in the world.

Just before Steve straightened up, Tony flicked a glance over at Barnes, who was curled up in the furthest armchair. He’d been looking pretty sulky about being forced to join in with team-bonding night every other time Tony had looked at him, but right now he was staring at Steve with the same glazed look that Clint had and which, no doubt, Tony had had as well.

Okay, so that was definitely a thing. Time to expand the support group.

“Hey, Barnes, you’re a sniper, right?” Barnes dragged his eyes away from Steve, a blank mask descending over the blatant lust he’d been showing a moment before.

“Yeah.”

Tony nodded, catching Clint’s eye. “Come down to the workshop tomorrow morning, I’m working on a thing with Clint that I could use your input on.”

For some reason that made Bucky’s eyes go wide, but he nodded stiffly before looking over at Steve again who was, disappointingly, now sitting down.

“You know, I really think you could get away with using his first name now you’ve been living together for most of a month,” said Steve, pointedly.

Clint snorted. “If Tony thinks he’s on first-name terms with you, that just opens you up to nicknames,” he said. “No one wants that.”

“Shut up, Annie Oakley,” said Tony. “People love my nicknames.”

“No one loves them,” said Natasha, which was just rude, and wrong, so wrong, because Rhodey definitely loved them.

Not that he’d ever said anything, but Tony could just tell. It was in the faint twitch and resigned sigh he gave whenever Tony pulled out the big guns, like platypus or snugglemuffin.

****

Bucky was the most hesitant Tony had seen him when he came into the workshop the next morning. He glanced around the whole place as if expecting something to blow up, for some reason lingering for a long time on the couch in the corner.

“Hey, Mr Roboto,” said Tony, waving a hand. “Come on in, park yourself.”

Clint had been examining the new arrows Tony had made him, because they couldn’t keep using that as a code if Clint didn’t actually get new hardware every so often, but he put them down and turned to give Bucky a welcoming grin. “JARVIS, CHAS Protocol,” he said.

“Protocol initiated, sir.”

The door shut and locked behind Bucky and he reacted like a startled cat, whirling around to stare at it, then spinning back to face Clint and Tony with, whoa, where the hell had that knife come from?

“No, nope, nothing threatening here,” said Tony, spreading his hands.

Clint winced. “Sorry, sorry, shoulda thought how that was going to seem before I did it,” he said. “You’re not locked in or anything, you can leave any time, that’s just to stop other people coming in while we’re talking. JARVIS locks down the security footage as well, so we don’t get rumbled.”

The knife didn’t disappear. “Rumbled doing what?” asked Bucky. He sounded more apprehensive than belligerent, which was...not a win, no matter which way Tony cut it, but at least he didn’t seem like he was going to attack.

“Crushing on Cap,” said Tony.

Bucky stared and the hand holding the knife relaxed a few inches. “What?”

“Okay, first things first, before we go any further, you gotta not tell Steve about this,” said Clint. “That’s the whole point of the protocol. It would be way too awkward if he found out, and I know it seems like I should be used to humiliation by now, but I really could do without Captain America knowing that Tony and I have a secret club that objectifies the shit out of his musclebound, serum-enhanced, Dorito-shaped body.”

Bucky’s stare intensified. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope,” said Tony. “The CHAS Protocol. Captain Hotass Appreciation Society.”

The knife disappeared and Bucky straightened from his combat-ready stance. “Seriously? That’s what you guys do when you’re locked up down here for hours? Everyone thinks you’re fucking.”

Tony did a double-take as Clint started choking. “They...what?”

Bucky shrugged. “You disappear randomly throughout the day, often without warning, making ridiculous excuses. They all think you’re failing to hide epic amounts of sex.”

“In the _workshop_?” asked Clint. “When we both have perfectly good bedrooms upstairs?”

Tony snorted. “Sure, that’s the problem with that assumption.” How the hell did a team of tactical geniuses and super-observant military types miss that there was no way someone like Clint was going to spend months fucking Tony without getting pissed off or bored or just wandering off, like everyone else Tony tried to get close to always did?

“I don’t go trying to understand the weird shit that people get up to these days,” said Bucky. “I gotta be honest, I kinda thought you were asking me down here for a threesome.”

Man, Tony should be so lucky.

Clint snorted. “Nah, we just thought you might want to chat to some guys that understand what it’s like to be presented with the peak of human perfection every day. Solidarity and all that, you know?”

Bucky shifted on his toes, glancing around the room as if checking for exits.

“You don’t have to,” said Tony, because the poor guy had been through enough without being forced into a support group. “Just, the offer’s there. And seriously, don’t tell Steve, I can’t handle that level of outraged confusion.”

Bucky let out a very long sigh, then ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay. Does this support group come with coffee?”

Tony beamed. “Always,” he said, and glanced at DUM-E to put the machine on.

****

Bucky integrated into Tony and Clint’s little club pretty well, especially after they shared their folder of Steve photos with him. All of them shots taken by the media, or by an innocent bystander on a camera phone and then posted to the internet, because Tony might be kinda sleazy, but he wasn’t about to start using security footage from the Tower to build up a spank bank.

Bucky spent a suspicious amount of time alone in his room for the next few days.

“Hey, do you think he uses the metal hand when he jerks it?” asked Clint, frowning at some tiny detail on the arrow he was fixing.

Tony had to stop and take a deep breath at the mental images that question raised. He glared at Clint, who just shrugged back.

“What? C’mon, I’ve seen how you look at that arm, you’ve been thinking it too.”

“Just how many super-soldiers are you nursing crushes on?” asked Tony, not bothering to answer that when Clint was apparently already aware just how vehement his ‘hell yes’ would be.

Clint shrugged. “How many have you got?” he said, which was probably a fair comment.

Three days later, Bucky joined them when Clint was trying to recover from Steve clapping a hand to his shoulder, looking him deep in his eyes, and telling him he’d done a good job after an op.

“His eyes are just so _blue_ when you’re that close to them,” said Clint helplessly, clutching his hands in his hair.

“I know, I know,” said Tony, rubbing his shoulder. “Hey, you coped with it very well. There was only a split-second when I thought you were going to come in your pants.”

Clint snorted and thrust a weak elbow into his ribs. “Like we don’t all know you had to re-engineer the suit to have more space in the groin area for when he does that back-flipping shield toss.”

Tony let out a quiet sigh at the memory of that move.

“You think you’ve got problems?” said Bucky. “Last night he offered to sleep with me if I thought it would help with my nightmares.”

Both Tony and Clint snapped their heads around to stare at him.

“Oh man, what did you say?” asked Tony. “Please tell me you said yes and snuggled the fuck out of all that muscle for all of us.”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “I get confused when I wake up sometimes. I don’t want to hurt him.”

‘Get confused’ clearly being code for ‘try and kill whoever’s nearby’. Well, Tony had some experience with that, although probably not nearly as much as the traumatised assassin.

Clint let out a long sigh. “That makes sense, but it’s god-damn heartbreaking,” he said, which summed up Tony’s feelings.

“Tell me about it,” muttered Bucky. 

Tony reached over Clint to pat at his shoulder. “Okay, this is getting depressing, who wants tequila?”

“Fuck yes,” said Clint, perking right up. “In fact, fuck it, let’s go to a bar. Who said this can’t be a drinking club as well as a support group?”

And that was why Tony liked Clint. He always had the kinds of ideas that were simultaneously the best and the worst.

“I know just the place,” he said. “What do you say, Buckaroo Banzai? Up for slipping the leash and getting wrecked?”

“I don’t know that I can get wrecked anymore, but I haven’t had a night out in…decades,” said Bucky. “A bar sounds good.”

Well, now they definitely had to do it, because that was just wrong. Everyone deserved a night out on occasion, even mythical ghost assassins.

****

They were more drinks in than was probably a good idea given that Tony had a board meeting tomorrow morning when Bucky cleared his throat and asked, “Say, uh. You guys aren’t actually in love with him, are you?”

“Nah,” said Clint. “I’m not that masochistic. Besides, there’s no way we’d actually work as a couple. I just really want to spend a hot, steamy night licking chocolate off his abs.”

“Same,” said Tony, raising his glass to chink against Clint’s. “Fucking same. I mean, come on, abs like that were just _made_ for licking, right?”

“I’m not sure that’s exactly what Erskine was thinking when he came up with the serum,” said Bucky, sounding amused in the way that sober people often did around their drunker friends.

Tony really needed to get on finding an alcohol strong enough for super-soldiers. He was willing to bet Bucky was a ridiculously fun drunk. Or a really destructive one, but either would be pretty awesome.

“Hey,” said Clint, frowning at Bucky. “You’re not, are you? We didn’t accidentally stumble on, like, the epic pining of the century, did we?”

Bucky snorted and shook his head. “Nah, I just really appreciate a fine ass and a kicking set of shoulders.” He hesitated, then added, “I mean, I’m still kinda disappointed you guys weren’t asking me for a threesome.” He gave Clint a pointed, heated look that ran down over his biceps before transferring to Tony.

Jesus fucking Christ. Tony hadn’t been turned on this much this quickly since the heatwave had finally got bad enough for Steve to start jogging shirtless.

God, that had been a good day.

“Fuck it, maybe we should have,” he said, because he was too drunk to remember why he’d decided not to sleep with any of his team and the idea of getting two incredibly hot guys like Clint and Bucky into bed just seemed like the best thing he’d ever heard.

Clint blinked and then clicked finger guns at him. “Yes! Fuck yes, why not?”

Bucky snorted. “Because you two are way too drunk to be making decisions like that?”

Clint shook his head. “No, no, listen, it’s perfect. We can stop just sitting around pining about not getting our hands on Steve’s abs, and just start licking chocolate off each other’s instead.”

Right, because Tony’s abs compared to a super-soldier’s or a super-fit archer’s. “Not sure that’s the best idea, and not just for the sake of the sheets,” he said.

“It’s the best idea,” said Clint, then lunged over and shoved his tongue down Tony’s throat.

Holy shit. Fuck YES. Tony grabbed Clint’s shoulders and kissed him back just as drunk-sloppily, because he wasn’t the kind of fool who looked a gifthorse in the mouth when he could be making out with the Amazing Hawkeye instead.

“Oh jeez,” he heard Bucky say, somewhere outside of what Clint’s mouth and tongue and lips were doing to him.

They were pulled apart by a firm hand on Tony’s shoulder, and he let Clint go with an unhappy noise that he was going to deny making until his dying day.

“I was enjoying that,” said Clint, sulkily.

“Okay, great,” said Bucky. “I mean, I kinda enjoyed watching it, but you guys are seriously too drunk for this decision. How about we revisit this when we’re all sober, yeah?”

That made a regrettable amount of sense. Tony let out a long breath. “Sure, okay. CHAS meeting in the workshop tomorrow morning?”

“Afternoon,” said Clint. “You have a board meeting, and I’m gonna be nursing a hangover.”

Ah crap, the board meeting. Tony was going to be a mess for that.

Fuck it, too late to go back. He caught their waitress’s eye and signalled for another round. “If we’re not gonna be fucking right now, we should get in some more drinking.”

Bucky looked for a moment like he was going to protest, which would have been very disappointing because Tony didn’t have threesomes with killjoys, and the more he thought about how hot this was going to be, the more he wanted it. The moment only lasted a second though, before Bucky relaxed and grinned instead.

“Fuck it. It’s not like I’m gonna be the one with a hangover.”

He was the one that had to get them back to the Tower though, one arm looped through Clint’s and the other steadying Tony’s shoulders as they stumbled down the sidewalk.

“See, see, the thing with Cap is,” Tony said, “we always fight, right? You guys have noticed that, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” said Bucky, with feeling.

“Yep,” agreed Clint. “Better now than before, but yep. Lots of shouting and sniping and sarcasm, man, the _sarcasm_...”

“Right,” agreed Tony. “So, see, we couldn’t make it work even if Steve wasn’t straighter than...a straight thing. A curtain rail. A Roman road. Straight things.”

“Man, I wish I was recording this,” said Bucky, which Tony ignored because that was usually what Rhodey said when he was drunk, and he always ignored that as well.

“But!” he said. “But, arguing translates to, like, really hot hatesex, right? Well, not _hate_ -hate sex, because I don’t hate the guy and I’m, like, 60% sure he doesn’t hate me-”

“He 100% doesn’t,” put in Bucky, which was nice but Tony couldn’t quite bring himself to buy it.

“-but the arguing means _sparks_ , so that’d be a wild ride,” he finished.

“Really wild,” agreed Clint. “Man, that’d be so hot, I’d watch that porno.”

Tony grinned at him as they finally made it to the Tower. “Thanks, man. I’d watch your chocolate-licking thing as well.”

Clint beamed back and for a moment Tony thought about kissing him again but Bucky was in the way and they’d agreed to leave that until tomorrow. Although, one more kiss couldn’t hurt, could it?

Oh man, he hadn’t kissed Bucky. No one had kissed Bucky. That was some kind of tragedy.

He waited until they were in the elevator, Clint listing to lean against the wall, before he mentioned it because he might not be a super-secret spy, but he had some sense of not kissing guys in the lobby when they hadn’t decided if it was a thing or not yet.

“Hey, so, Bucky, you’re taking care of us real well,” he said. “Thanks and all. Are we getting goodnight kisses?”

Clint perked up, which almost made him lose his balance and slide across the wall, but he caught himself in time. “Hell yes, are we?”

Bucky let out a very long sigh, rolling his eyes up. “Fuck it,” he said. “Why not? Might be nice to be kissed in this century.”

“Aw man, that’s so sad,” said Clint, lurching off the wall and tipping his weight onto Bucky instead, who caught him with both arms. “Can’t let that be a thing, not when you’re all smoking hot and seriously working the reformed badguy smoulder.”

Bucky blinked. “The what?” 

Clint didn’t bother explaining, he just kissed him instead which, okay, Tony should be pissed because that had been his idea, how come Clint got to go first? But it was so incredibly hot to watch that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t care how sober I am tomorrow, we’re definitely doing this thing,” he said as Clint ran his fingers into Bucky’s hair to hang on.

Bucky pulled back from Clint to take a breath, his eyes wide and his mouth red. “Yeah, agreed,” he said in a hoarse voice.

Clint beamed at him. “No one can resist my kisses,” he boasted, then stumbled as the elevator came to a stop. “Oh, we’re here.”

“JARVIS, leave the doors closed for a mo,” said Tony, because he was damned if he was missing out on kissing Bucky just because his tower wasn’t tall enough to make the elevator ride last long enough. He met Bucky’s eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Want to up your game to two guys in the same century?”

Bucky snorted as he turned towards him, setting a hand on Tony’s shoulder to pull him in. “Sure thing, dollface.”

He kissed Tony before he could protest the petname, and all thought of doing so was wiped out of Tony’s mind a moment later because, _shit_ Bucky was good at this.

“This is going to be so fucking good,” said Tony once they’d come up for air, hoping he didn’t sound as dazed as he felt.

Clint sniggered. “ _Fucking_ good,” he said, because his sense of humour hadn’t matured past the teenage years.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Okay, JARVIS, let us out.”

The elevator doors slid open and Tony made himself head for his room without more than a wink at the other two. Waiting to be sober for this was the best decision, even if it felt like some kind of torture right now.

****

It had nothing on the torture of attending a board meeting with a throbbing hangover, though. As soon as Tony got back to the workshop, he collapsed on the couch with a groan and waved a hand at the nearest bot. “Coffee. Like, ten minutes ago.”

When it arrived, it wasn’t clasped in a metal claw.

Tony squinted his eyes up at Bucky. “Oh, hey. Didn’t realise you were here.”

“I could tell,” said Bucky, sounding amused. “Still think that last round of shots was a good idea?”

“Of course,” said Tony, shifting upright so that there was space for Bucky to sit down. “It was my idea, wasn’t it? All my ideas are gold.” He cradled the coffee closer to his chest and carefully didn’t meet Bucky’s eye as he added, “Including the threesome one, that was definitely gold. Better than, platinum, maybe. Vibranium.”

If he was about to get shot down, like he’d spent most of the board meeting panicking about, it was going to be right now.

“Your idea?” repeated Bucky, slowly. “Is that what we’re saying? Seems to me that I was the first person to mention it.”

Oh thank god, that wasn’t any kind of rejection. “As a hypothetical, sure,” said Tony. “Lots of ideas get bandied around in the hypothetical, but it’s the guy who actually puts them into practice that gets the credit.”

“You mean how Clint put it into practice by kissing you?” asked Bucky.

“Is someone taking my name in vain?” asked Clint as he came into the lab.

He looked like shit and Tony was pretty sure he was wearing what he’d slept in, so at least he wasn’t alone in his misery any more.

“JARVIS, can you put the CHAS Protocol into place?” asked Bucky.

“Protocol initialised,” said JARVIS, and the lock snicked closed.

“I should rewrite the protocol so it’s automatic when we’re all down here,” said Tony, thoughtfully.

“Especially if we’re going to be fucking,” agreed Clint, dropping onto the sofa next to Bucky and collapsing sideways into him. He raised his head after a moment and frowned at them. “We are still doing that, right?”

“We better be,” said Tony. “Thinking about it was basically all that got me through that board meeting.”

Not entirely true, as most of the thinking had been worry and second-guessing, but close enough.

“We gonna wait until you guys are a little less hungover first?” asked Bucky. “Cos, I’m sure it’s gonna be super-hot and all, but I’d rather you didn’t both look quite so bleary-eyed.”

He probably had a point, given how much Tony still ached, but he wasn’t so good with delayed gratification. Especially not if it gave them a chance to change their minds.

“Sure,” said Clint, nestling back down against Bucky. “Let me have a real quick nap and I’ll be up for it.”

Bucky snorted, shifting so that he could put an arm around him. “I’m hoping there’s gonna be a shower at some point as well.”

Clint waved a vague hand in the air. “Sure thing, sweetcheeks, if that’s what floats your boat.”

Bucky patted him then hesitated so briefly that Tony would have missed it if he wasn’t greedily taking in every aspect of these two guys cuddling on _his_ couch, then leaned to press a kiss to Clint’s forehead. 

“You’re what floats my boat,” he said and then, just as Tony had been starting to feel a bit third wheel-y, he reached out with his other hand to squeeze Tony’s thigh. “Both of you.”

Aw man, no one had warned Tony that he was going to be having emotions, he was way too hungover to cope with this.

Still, it was beginning to seem a lot like no one was thinking of this as just a one-off thing, and there was no way Tony was going to do anything to discourage that. He unclenched one of his hands from around his coffee and put it over Bucky’s hand, squeezing it in return. “Right back atcha, T800.”

“Right,” said Clint, sleepily. “All the boats are floating.”

If Clint was getting a nap before they did this, then Tony had time to do some work on the new Starkpad. Or, he thought, gently tipping sideways so that he was pressed up against Bucky and could rest his head on his shoulder, he could follow Clint’s lead.

Bucky let out a quiet sigh. “Kinda thought there’d be some kinda sex before I ended up just being a pillow.”

“Sssh, pillow,” mumbled Clint. “Sex later, sleep now.”

Bucky let out an even longer sigh, but a moment later there was a gentle tug on the mug Tony was still holding and he let it be eased out of his hand so that he could relax properly.

“I guess I do want you two to be well-rested for the things I got planned,” Bucky said in a quiet voice, and Tony smiled to himself, letting the tiredness sweep him away. He really liked the idea of Bucky having plans.

****

They relocated to Tony’s bedroom for the sex, because the workshop really wasn’t set up for three guys to get down and dirty in it without significant discomfort. By the time Clnt had had a shower and Bucky had insisted everyone had lunch, though, things had got kinda awkward. Too much build up and anticipation when no one really seemed to have much of an idea of how to start this.

And then Clint rolled his eyes and kissed the hell out of Tony, then turned to do the same to Bucky, and Tony remembered that he knew exactly what to do with two hot guys in his bedroom, and things went a lot smoother after that. Especially once Bucky started telling them all the plans he’d made while they’d napped against him, a stream of absolute _filth_ that had Tony hard and aching in no time at all because, _fuck_ , who knew a guy from the forties could come up with shit like that?

And, Jesus, they could probably get most of it to work as well, because Clint was flexible as shit, and Bucky was strong enough to manhandle them both in ways that made Tony have to pause to catch his breath, and Tony had a width and depth of experience when it came to this kinda thing that meant he knew exactly how viable Bucky’s plans were.

Not that they managed anything complicated or thought-out then, not when they were all just so damn eager to get their hands on each other, so damn full of need and lust that Tony was kinda surprised he was able to hold off on orgasming as long as he did.

“We’re definitely doing this again,” he said afterwards, as they all lay slumped in a pile together. “We need to try out all those ideas.”

“Oh yeah,” sad Clint with satisfaction, stretching in a slow, languorous way that nearly made Tony swallow his tongue because fuck, how the hell was he in bed with two guys this hot?

“I’ve got a few others as well,” said Bucky, raising his head from Tony’s shoulder with a wicked grin. “I think we’re gonna have to keep doing this for a good long while.”

“Oh no, the horror,” said Tony as flatly as he could, then leaned in to kiss Bucky. “I think I can cope with that.”

God, he could more than cope with that. He was having to restrain himself from doing a little ‘I just had one of the best threesomes of my long and varied sexual career and they want to do it again’ dance, mostly because he wanted to try and keep some dignity, but also because, Christ, they’d completely wiped him out.

“I definitely can,” said Clint, grinning at them both. “In fact, you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking the couch in the workshop needs an upgrade.”

“An upgrade capable of standing up to all three of us getting busy on it?” asked Tony. “I mean, sure, but you know Pepper’s going to notice, at the least, and probably Cap as well, and that’s going to be a couple of very awkward conversations. For them, not for me, I don’t have a lot of shame about this kinda thing.”

“Steve looks hot when he blushes,” Bucky pointed out.

“Oh yeah,” said Clint, eyes lighting up. “He gets all adorably awkward when he gets presented with sex stuff, we definitely need to do that.”

They made a good point. “JARVIS, order a bigger couch for the workshop would you?” asked Tony. “Something big enough for all three of us.”

“Maybe one of those ones that opens out into a bed?” suggested Bucky.

“We’ll need to start keeping lube down there as well,” added Clint.

There was a long-suffering note to JARVIS’s voice when he replied that Tony ignored, because that wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing he’d asked his AI to order him. “I will make arrangements.”

****

Tony had kinda expected the whole thing to sizzle out by the time the new couch arrived, or at least for the other two to make it clear that they were only really interested in the sex side of things, and not in actually hanging out, but weeks passed and they both still kept coming down to hang out with him when he was working, or dragged him out for food and sleep when they’d decided he’d been down there too long.

Bucky took them out for dinner one night, wearing a button-down shirt the same colour as his eyes and giving them both worried looks when he thought they weren’t looking, as if he were scared he was crossing a line. Clint reciprocated by taking them to his favourite pizza place, which looked like a dive but had the best pizza Tony could remember eating outside of Italy. Tony wasn’t about to be shown up, so he took them somewhere so fancy that they all had to wear suits, which was definitely not his main motive, not at all, but _damn_ they both cleaned up into total hotasses, how the hell had he got this lucky?

And somehow, just like that, they were dating as well as fucking. Tony definitely didn’t know what to make of that, but he was fucked if he wasn’t going to hold on to it for as long as possible.

Tony had Clint pressed up against the wall of the workshop and was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, pressing kisses to each new piece of skin as he revealed it while Bucky pulled the sofa out into a bed, already shirtless from where Clint had got his hands on him while Tony was still trying to pretend he was going to get some work done with these two guys making out in the same room as him.

He had enough buttons undone to push the fabric away from Clint’s nipple and lean in to give it a long suck and then a swift nip of teeth.

“Ah, fuck,” muttered Clint, cupping his hand around the back of Tony’s head. “Yeah, just… _fuck_.”

Which was when the workshop doors opened and Steve strolled in. “Tony, do you have...oh.”

Tony pulled away from Clint in time to see the blush take over Steve’s face as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Aw man,” said Clint. “What happened to the CHAS Protocol?”

Tony knew he’d forgotten something. Damn, he really did have to make that protocol automatic when they were all in the workshop together.

“We forgot it,” said Bucky, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips. “Hey, Stevie. This isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah,” said Steve, eyes darting about between Bucky’s shirtlessness and where Tony still had Clint pressed up against the wall. “I can tell. What’s the CHAS Protocol?”

Tony felt Clint freeze up under his hands as if anyone was about to give Steve the real answer to that question. Besides, they hardly ever used the protocol for its original purpose now, not when there were so many better things to do when they were all alone together.

He gave Steve the filthiest smirk he could manage, which was pretty damn filthy, and said, “The Cryo-Cutie, Hotass-Hawkass And Stark Protocol,” he said. “It puts the workshop in lockdown so innocent little super-soldiers don’t walk in on anything NC-17.”

Bucky snorted. “He’s lying,” he said, and Tony felt himself tense up just as much as Clint, because surely the guy wasn’t about to out them all now? “The S doesn’t stand for Stark, it stands for Sex-”

“Okay!” interrupted Steve, loudly. “Do you know what? I think I’m okay not knowing.” He took a couple of steps backwards. “We’ll talk some other time, Tony. I’m just gonna, uh, go warn everyone else not to come down here without warning, okay? Okay.”

“You’re welcome to join in,” said Tony because how the hell was he meant to resist asking?

Steve just sent him a look and disappeared, which was what Tony had been expecting but was still faintly disappointing.

“JARVIS, CHAS Protocol,” said Bucky, the moment Steve was gone, then raised an eyebrow at Tony. “‘Cryo-Cutie’?”

Tony shrugged. “I thought that was pretty good for spur-of-the-moment, given the letters I had to work with.”

“You realise my actual name starts with C, right?” said Clint.

“Shut up, Hotass-Hawkass,” said Bucky. “Like you’re complaining.”

Clint shrugged and grinned, and Tony pressed back into him so he could kiss that look off his face, because he was damned if he was getting sidetracked from where things had been headed before Steve walked in. Tony had to raise up onto his toes to press him back against the wall without losing contact with his mouth but it was worth it when Clint melted into his kiss, wrapping his arms around Tony and pulling him in close. 

“Huh,” said Bucky, with the note that meant he’d just had another of his fiendishly awesome ideas. “Tony, do me a favour and come here.”

Tony was pretty damn happy where he was, but he had a feeling that whatever Bucky was thinking would make him pretty damn happy as well, so he gave Clint one last kiss then stepped back, leaving him flushed and breathless as he leaned back against the wall.

Bucky was closer than Tony had thought, and he took Tony’s shoulders to keep him looking at Clint, pressing up behind him to say, right next to his ear and quiet enough for Clint not to hear him, “Picture him in one of Cap’s uniforms.”

Oh fuck. Clint’s height and shoulders would fill it out nicely, and with his blond hair and blue eyes, and then add in the breathlessness, the flush of his cheeks and the hopelessly turned on look he was giving both of them… fuck. Tony’s knees actually weakened from the surge of arousal and he relaxed back against Bucky as an arm snaked around his waist to hold him up.

“Cryo-Cutie, you have the best damn ideas,” he said.

Bucky pressed a kiss against his neck. “Aren’t you glad you invited me to join your club, Sexkitten Stark?”

“Oh yeah,” said Tony. “So much that I’m going to let that nickname go. For now.”

Bucky snorted, probably just as aware as Tony that he could probably get away with calling him whatever he wanted, as long as he kept including Tony in his fucking hot sex plans.

“Is anyone going to actually touch me?” complained Clint. He ran a hand over the exposed skin of his chest, lingering on the nipple Tony had sucked earlier. “Or do I need to touch myself?”

Oh Jesus, these two guys were going to kill Tony. And he was going to enjoy every single second of it.


End file.
